[Cal] On the Mend - RP Short

Characters: Cal, Vandre
Cal's vigil over her fellow SOLDIER. *feels sorry for Vandre* XD
Traverse Town Inn - Cyan Room

This room is also bright and cheerful, painted a pale, but bright blue like the summery sky. The walls and ceilings are painted with a bright, cheerful cloud theme in mind; Numerous soft, fluffy cotony clouds float along the walls and ceiling, as is the large, four poster bed. The floors and curtains however are painted in a solid pale blue color. The curtains are also colored a willowy, cotony white as if to emulate clouds themselves, and there is also a balcony openning to the outside, and a bathroom (also in cloud theme) at the back of the room.

Contents:
Vandre
Obvious exits:
<Out> [leads to 'Traverse Town Inn - 2nd Floor']

<OOC> Caliah brings stuff Van is allergic to :X
<OOC> Vandre says, "cry"

Cyan all around, color of the sky with ivory white paint stroked into billowing clouds that crown the corners of the room. A bed, matching the rest of the room, is also a bright cyan blue with fully cloud-shaped pillows at the head of it. A figure is beneath the blankets, the material fitting to his form. Burgundy hair spills out over head and onto the pillow. Suddenly it stirs, groaning loudly.

Vandre sits up right abruptly, mako-eyes glowing their normal gilded hue as he pants, sweat upon his face. The blanket slides off revealing a bandaged body, streaks of blood visible still. He pauses, rubs his eyes and looks up. He coughs, catching himself as his body shudders with pain. "Goddamn you Caliah, I told you to keep me alive and there you go letting me die, but I ended up in heaven with holy...the irony of it," he speaks as he rubs his eyes drearily.

<OOC> Caliah says, "does Vandre have anything broken? >.>"
<OOC> Vandre says, "leg sob"
<OOC> Vandre says, "I guess xD"
<OOC> Caliah dies
<OOC> Vandre says, "sob he fell 4 stories at a high speed :x"
<OOC> Vandre says, "probably a sprained shoulder xD"
<OOC> Vandre says, "and a gash on his back when the dragon chewed at it"
<OOC> Vandre says, "and various cuts all around from the swarm on heartless that got on him :X"
<OOC> Vandre says, "SOB useless cure materia"
<OOC> Vandre says, "he isn't a snobby first class who are invincible >.>"

The lean, black-clad figure reclining in one of the room's chair is seen to stir, but only to raise a cryptic eye to meet Vandre's, her silvery hair tousled and clothing slightly rumpled as if she'd been sleeping in the chair, or at least sitting there, for quite a while. For all that, the SOLDIER's coat's flung beside her on the arm of the chair, and she was clad in the military-style vest she always wore underneath it. "And who said you'd go to heaven if you died? You're in the military." A smirk curves her lips as she draws the chair to the side of the bed with her right hand, the left coming into view to disclose a light splint, but Caliah appears not to pay it any heed. "You looked like hell then, you don't look much better now, but do you -feel- any better?"


Trying to shuffle, Vandre meets resistance and notices the makeshift cast on his right leg. He curses and groans and merely shifts his head to cast a gaze at Caliah, face partially veiled by his splayed hair. "I can feel now, much pain, but better than be half-dead" he comments, licking his lips as if his mouth were dry. He pauses, exhaling deeply, relaxing as best as his bandaged body would allow. "No one helped me either, goddamn ingrates, had to fight alone while others banded together" he mutters in a venomous tone. Silence falls for a moment as he looks around from Caliah. "Thank you" he speaks, tone softer now, gentle.


"Not everyone's trained to fight as we do, or to work in a unit," Caliah replies after a brief silence, leaning back in her chair, her eyes still fixed on her injured companion. Silhouetted in the weak sunlight that streams in from the window, the young SOLDIER appears pale and tranquil, singularly calm even after the ordeal they'd gone through. "We can't rely on anyone outside our unit, or expect anyone else to be reliable on the field. In battle it's almost always every man for himself. They forget what they're really fighting for, their cause, everything except to survive."

"Of course, we know better. That's supposed to increase our chances of survival, but none of us can really predict what will happen in battle. We weren't supposed to get separated, but we did. I could say 'It happens', but that would be shrugging off my responsibility."


"I suppose...I've just never fought alone. My last unit, we were tightly knit, helped each other, it's how we got by and succeeded to prove people wrong. Still, I can't excuse any weaknesses. I will just be better prepared next time," Vandre speaks with some regret in his voice, a bandage hand grabbing a part of the blanket almost absently. He turns back to face Caliah, hair swaying as it veils half of his face. "But you managed to live. I'm not at all surprised," he adds with a weak smile followed by a wince.


A soft, sigh escapes the female SOLDIER in reply, narrow shoulders shifting in a self-deprecating shrug. She rakes a hand through her hair, sifting her fingers through the fine strands. "The question is whether you know your weaknesses and whether you can compensate for what you can't mend. I'm in charge of you, and it's my responsibility to see to it you make the most of what potential you have rather than waste it. Your combat skills are solid; you don't need me to tell you that - or do you?" Eyeing her fellow SOLDIER narrowly, the Shinra operative pulls at the clasps of her vest, relaxing more comfortably in her chair. "I don't think you've reached your ceiling...your limits, just yet. The key is getting there without making a mistake that could easily prove fatal."


Raising a shoulder up as if to stretch it, Vandre winces and gives up on the attempt. "I know...I know...you're right. I wasn't prepared and I was too dependent on fighting with others. I should be prepared...I hope I haven't reached my limit but I'm sure this Heartless threat will constantly test it and push me to reach it...aye" he speaks, exhaling after as he tilts his neck and flexes his body, cracking it and allowing the bones to relieve themselves of the air wedged between. "In time, and hopefully I'll be fully recovered soon, maybe," he wrinkles his nose after and lowers a hand down as if to reach for something. "The red orb, where is it?" he asks, eyes shifting as they search, frantically.


"It's with your clothes and other...personal effects, in the drawers." Absently stroking her fingers over the splint on her left arm, Caliah adds, "We'd best return to Gaia 6 as soon as you're fit for travel...not that you'll be for several days yet. They'll want us to file a report of what we witnessed."

There's a near-imperceptible narrowing of those violet eyes, and she adds, in quiet undertones, "It must have been easy for the Heartless to exploit the festivities for their plans. Did you find out what they were after? It seemed they went to a lot of trouble to accomplish what they'd set out to do...whatever it was."


"Massacre," comes the reply, brief and crisp. "The child was possessed and disposed of. Whomever possessed him is now long gone. Maybe send out a message, something about darkness and being the god of it. That's all I can remember for now...but it had associates helping it, I figure," Vandre adds as he glances over at the drawers, relief washing over his face. "Not many survived but most of them were civilians. The Heartless were after threats, like me and others who knew how to fight. Maybe to wipe us out now so we couldn't resist a future attack later." He pauses and looks back at Caliah. "What happened outside?"


Turning to the window and reaching a hand to part the curtain, a slender beam of grey sunlight falling pale and cold across the room, the young woman utters nothing in answer for a moment. When she speaks it's in much the same inflectionless tones. "There was a power directing them that I'd not seen before...some sorceress, perhaps. There were humans helping the Heartless; I don't possess enough ability to have discerned whether they were Heartless or just pawns in their control. We seem to have had a better time of it than the people inside the Arena. It was clever of them to split us up into more manageable numbers like that, but for something so pointless as killing...they might have employed something more brutally efficient. Like blowing up the Arena entirely."

"So perhaps they did want an audience." A soft snort, and she releases the curtain, letting it fall back into place. "Then again, with troops like the Heartless, you could hardly expect their leaders to be comprehensible, or at least sane and logical. Did you recognise any of the attackers in the Coliseum?"


"Just a child...Heartless...Sephiroth, the one from the files, the famous one...he was there" Vandre recalls shifting a bit as he yawns, closing his eyes, shutting out the mako glow. "There was another...I think who helped the darkness....I don't remember" he repeats, wearily as he inhales and exhales. "Then..." he falls silent before drifting off into a slumber.


Shaking her head, Caliah settles back in the chair in the patient, resigned manner of one who'd grown accustomed to such as this. "Sleep if you must," she murmurs, idly propping her injured arm on her chair as she watches the man, features set in an inscrutable expression. "I think we have a lot of work ahead of us."
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